


Hot Duck

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Wonderfalls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-20
Updated: 2006-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1625135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaye Tyler is a sex humanitarian.  Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Duck

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Velutlunas and Pesha for encouragement.
> 
> Written for carenejeans

 

 

Jaye truly started hating life when her vibrator spoke up over the sound of the water rushing in her tiny shower. Now, not only was she well and truly crazy, the devil knew she owned a vibrator shaped like Ernie's rubber duckie.

"Make her come," it chirped happily.

"You're not real," Jaye shot back, her fingers swirling coconut shampoo angrily through her hair.

"Make her come," the duckie insisted.

"Okay-so you're real. But I only got you because you were on sale. And my mother can't tell you're beaked for her pleasure."

She hopped impatiently, waiting for the conditioner to rinse out.

"Make her come."

Jaye sighed.

Four hours later, the trailer wasn't big enough to mask the tinny cheerful sound of the duck.

"I hate you," Jaye moaned, hiding her head under a pillow.

By dawn, Jaye sulked over a bowl of cereal. "Fine," she said with her mouth full, gesturing her spoon. "Make who come where?"

The duck seemed to smirk a little.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

***

"Jaye, you if you tell someone, I will seriously disown you."

"You can't disown me." Jaye downed another shooter.

"Well if you tell anyone," Mahandra hissed, "you are dead."

"Hey." Jaye waved her empty shot glass at the cute bartender. "Do you think it's that weird if a girl's never had an orgasm? That's not embarrassing, right? That's not crazy, right? Crazy is when you do have orgasms all the time until ducks start telling you to sex up your best friend. That's crazy."

Mahandra shook her head. "I hate you."

***

"Okay listen," Jaye said, squinting to use her very serious voice. She held her rubber duckie between her thighs, glaring at the little orange beak. "I-there's. Well, there were drinks. And I am quite possibly drunk. You're on my shit list, duck. Quiet. Quiet-oh fuck quiet."

The duckie buzzed softly, the sound becoming muffled and low as Jaye tucked the small pointy beak against the folds guarding her clit. She thought about Eric and his big eyes and his stupid angst and the dumb way he had to be so nice. She thought about Eric's mouth and wondered if his chin would be as bristly as it looked if he had his tongue against her pussy.

And then she blushed for thinking the word pussy. And then her legs started to quiver hard. And then she concentrated on Eric's smile and his arms and his ass and the back of his neck where his hair always looked a little damp.

So close.

She thought about his hands and the delicate way he handled the glassware behind the bar. She pictured his long fingers sliding into her panties.

Closer.

"Make her come."

Jaye screamed and threw the duck across the length of the Airstream. It hit the wall, bounced down onto the floor, and continued buzzing.

"Fine," she shrieked. " _Fine_!"

***

"Do you remember that part where I said I was never speaking to you again, ever?"

"Yeah, I know," Jaye said, cradling the phone and glaring at the sex toy on the floor. Eventually the batteries had to run out. "That's right, keep buzzing, demon duck."

"Are you still drunk?"

"What? No. You need to, you know, pleasure yourself."

"You're calling me at three am to tell me to masturbate." Mahandra didn't sound particularly shocked. Jaye made a mental note to be insulted once her buzz faded and the following hangover passed.

"I guess with a toy. I'd loan you one but my mother tossed mine out. Except for one." Jaye peered over the side of the bed.

"Make her come," the duck said.

She frowned. "And it's broken."

"Great. It's on my list, right after _find sane friends_. Goodnight," Mahandra sighed.

"No! No no, no you can't hang up. Don't hang up. Don't hang up!"

Jaye waited to make sure the silence on the other end of the line was disapproval and not an impending dial tone. "Do you want to talk about it," she offered.

"No."

"Do you want to dirty talk?"

"Jaye, you can't dirty talk."

"Sure I can! Ooooo, baby. Your, um. Your ass is on fire, sexy mama, damn. You're fine."

"Congratulations. I think my vagina just died."

***

"Maybe you're putting extra pressure on her," Eric said, eyeing Jaye carefully as he dried wine glasses with a soft rag. "Some people have a hard time performing under pressure. Or whatever"

"It isn't performing. There's no audience!"

"Well, it's kind of performing if you're asking her constantly if she's had an orgasm yet." Eric hung another clean glass up on the rack above the bar. "What's with that anyway?"

"Oh, I'm a humanitarian. Like a sex humanitarian. I'm doing my part. And I'm a feminist. Power to the uh, girls. Girl power."

Eric eyed her.

Jaye dropped her head into her arms and moaned. "My vibrator won't stop talking to me."

"Wow." Eric slid Jaye's daiquiri to the opposite end of the bar. "You're cut off."

***

Aaron guarded the door like he'd been ordered to. "Explain to me again why you're using Dad's AOL account?"

Jaye waved over her shoulder. "I'm buying sex toys on the Internet."

"I... see."

"Don't worry, they're for Mahandra."

Aaron cleared his throat and shifted. "Did the voices in your head tell you to do that?"

"Blue silicon bullet thing or a freaky pink bunny?"

"Did they um, tell you anything else about Mahandra?"

"Aaron, don't be gross."

***

Jaye stopped by her parents' house every day to check for packages, and every day Aaron shook his head and shrugged and told her maybe the Internet sex toy had gotten lost in the mail.

She kept the rubber duckie hidden in her purse, convinced that if she left it at home it would find a way to crawl out onto her lawn and tell her neighbors that sometimes she masturbated to reruns of the X-Files.

Squirming uncomfortably on her barstool on the eighth day, Jaye tried not to think about adjectives like _wet_ and _swollen_ and _throbbing_. The combination of Eric being criminally attractive all the time and her vibrator being demonically possessed was giving her a serious case of blue balls.

"Actually, what do they call it for girls?" she wondered aloud.

Mahandra passed by with a tray full of tequila shots. "Do I even want to know?"

"Blue balls. Is it blue clit?"

"You are nasty," Mahandra laughed, leaving one of the shots in front of Jaye.

"Whatever, I-" Jaye blinked. "Wait. You're cheerful." She reached into her purse and pulled the duckie out, setting on the bar in front of her. "Talk. Talk!"

"If that's what I think it is, I sincerely hope you washed it before you stuck it up on my bar," Mahandra shook her head.

Eric dropped a glass.

"It's not talking," Jaye announced. "Did you have an orgasm?"

"N-no! Maybe. I guess."

Jaye slapped a ten-dollar bill on the bar, grabbed the silent duck, and slid off the barstool. "Yeah uh, cool. I gotta go."

 

 

 


End file.
